


Chocolate Bars

by Jayteesee



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), F/M, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Reader works at a store at a gas station, bit of romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayteesee/pseuds/Jayteesee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently that speedy Avenger guy has got a sweet tooth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolate Bars

"Quicksilver," I say as a man basically appears in the store looking around aimlessly.

"Yeah, that's me apparently. I was told this place has candy," he says not even bothering to look in my direction. 

"That's basically the whole place... also, I can get you a pack of cigarettes, beer, some milk, and fake meat," I add.

He turns towards me. "Really? I love New York," he says.

"What do you want?" I ask exasperatedly.

"Chocolate bars," he finally responds.

"Right here at the counter," I reply gesturing towards the array of chocolate bars.

He grabs about five and begins to walk out. "Nuh-uh. Pay up," I say shaking my head.

"But I'm an Avenger," Quicksilver whines.

"Right now, you're a customer, and customers pay. Now do it before I use my discreetly hidden baseball bat on you," I say pretending to be menacing... although at times I can be.

Pietro growls and plops down a five dollar bill. "Keep the change," he says.

"I would if there was any. You owe me 27 cents," I say.

He puts down a dollar bill. "I'm taking the change this time," he says to me.

"Good. I don't want your charity," I reply doling out his 73 cents.

The next day he comes in at the same time scowling at me. He puts $6 on the counter and says, "Keep the change," as he grabs his five chocolate bars.

We keep this up for about two more days. On the fifth day, he says to me before dishing out his six bucks, "My name's Pietro."

"I know, numbskull," I reply.

He sighs. "You can call me Pietro instead of Quicksilver... or numbskull," he says.

"You can call me Y/N," I say smiling at him.

"Keep the change, Y/N," he says walking out.

I chuckle to myself. On the ninth day he comes in actually smiling at me. "Hey, Pietro," I say.

He looks up. "Hey, Y/N. Here you go. Keep the change," he says ready to leave already.

"Wait, Pietro. Here," I say watching him as he walks back towards me.

I grab a sharpie from off the counter and write my number on his hand. He smiles at me then walks out the store. At night, we text until we fall asleep.

The next day, Pietro walks into the shop at the same time but does not see me at the counter. "Where's Y/N?" he asks the girl there who is a little flustered at seeing an Avenger up close. 

"She... uh... called out sick," she answers pretty sure she has sweat through her clothes by now.

Pietro buys six chocolate bars and a can of chicken noodle soup and plops down a ten dollar bill. "Give me the change," he snarls.

"I... I wasn't planning on keeping it,"  the girl pretty much squeaks. She promptly counts it out and hands it to him. He walks out the store and calls me. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me you were sick?" he asks.

"Because I didn't think I needed to," I say my voice sounding weird the way it does when your nose is stuffy.

"Where do you live? I'll be right over," he says.

"In apartment 46C in that complex about ten miles east of the gas station," I reply.

He hangs up and about ten seconds later is buzzing me to let him in. He makes it to my door, and I force myself to get up and open it. He barges in and begins inspecting me. "Are you ok? Get back to the couch. I'm taking care of you," he says. 

He walks over to the stove to start making the soup and then sits next to me on the couch. "I got you your very own," he says waving his extra chocolate bar in front of me then placing it on the other side of the couch. I wrap my blanket around me tighter and lay my head on his shoulder. "Thanks, Pietro," I say weakly.

He smiles at me and kisses my forehead. "I'm not just gonna let you stay here wallowing in your own germs," he replies.

I look up at him, and he leans in. "Wait! Aren't you afraid you'll catch my sickness (sneeze) or something?" I ask pushing my hands against his chest.

"No. I have a high metabolism. My body doesn't get sick with things such as colds," he responds.

I do not completely think that is accurate, but I kiss him anyway.

The next day, I am back at work, but Pietro does not show up. When my shift is over, I look at my phone and see one text:  _Y/N, I'm sick. Please help. - Pietro Maximoff_


End file.
